


Blind Date

by schizoress



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Dates, Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, Meet-Cute, for like all of 8 seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5139395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schizoress/pseuds/schizoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joseph is a college freshmen freshly stood up, Sebastian is the senior that comes to his rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blind Date

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a [friend](http://youusedtoringmeponmedigicel.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, beta'd by the lovely [azgdamalakov](http://azgdamalakov.tumblr.com/) and based off of this [tumblr post](http://schizoress.tumblr.com/post/126288028885/) (not to mention hours of yelling about college au stuff to the previously mentioned friend). Enjoy!

“Sir, if you don’t order something soon I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” The waitress’ voice was soft, lowered so that only he could hear it so as not to draw the attention of the other patrons. Not that it mattered, really because those that had been here from the beginning already had it in their heads that he’d been stood up and had been casting pitying looks his way for the better part of an hour now.

“I- I will just,” He pries his gaze away from the restaurant entrance and stares hard at the menu splayed out before him. “There’s a lot to choose from, can i have ten more minutes?” He asks, trying to keep his voice even as he lies about not knowing what he wants for maybe the fourth time to the pretty young woman serving him tonight. He wants the porterhouse, medium-rare, a side of broccoli and a loaded baked potato too. Staring at the soup menu for a moment now, he considers the idea of getting a light soup instead of the house salad that he knows comes complimentary.

“Alright,” Her voice is tired, exasperated maybe, and he wants to apologize to her, explain why he’s so desperate to wait just a little while longer for a man he knows was never going to show up in the first place. But he doesn’t, he just ducks his head and mutters a weak ‘thank you’ when she says that she’ll be back to check on him in fifteen minutes.

Instead of actually pretending he was telling the truth and scrutinizing the menu he’s already managed to memorize by now, Joseph shoves a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. His finger stutters over the passcode and he stares at the barren wasteland that is his messages. He doesn’t dare send another text, having already sent ten over the course of his waiting, because he knows better now than to think that he might manage to get a response. The screen dims slightly as he stares at it, the clock in the upper right hand corner nearing eight thirty. He has been here almost an hour and a half now, longer if you counted the fifteen minutes he spent building up his confidence in the car after arriving early. Briefly, he wonders when the restaurant closes, weighs the options of eating alone versus walking out when the waitress inevitably returns and forces him to make a decision.

Joseph doesn’t want to do either, really. The idea of eating alone erases any appetite he might have, and walking out with all those eyes on him, judging, knowing, pitying him for being stood up--it makes him want to vomit. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t think he’ll make it halfway to the doors before the pressure forces up what little he already has in his stomach or he faints of a stress induced panic attack. Just thinking about that makes the entire situation even worse, and Joseph can feel the weight of them both pressing down on him. It’s suffocating.

“Are you ready to order now?” The familiar voice jolts him out of his daze, and Joseph realizes he’s been staring at a black screen for the past ten minutes. Not the most embarrassing realization of the night, he supposes, but he still feels his features heat in embarrassment--or maybe shame. He’s not sure there’s enough of a separation between the two for it to matter.

“No, unfortunately.” He mutters dejectedly as he slowly slides his phone back into his pocket and shifts in his seat.

“Are you sure, sir?” She doesn’t seem to really be trying to get him to stay, and Joseph figures that it’s a requirement for her to exert every possible effort to get a customer to spend money here. The way she sidesteps a little, moving out of his way as if to offer him room to stand up and leave proves that she knows all too well that he’s being foolish. Thirty minutes is an acceptable amount of time to be late, any longer and there would have to have been some sort of communication to reassure either party that the date was still on. He sighs and glances out the window to his right. It’s a beautiful night, so at least his walk of shame won’t be too depressing.

“Yeah, I’m,” He pauses, cuts himself off to take a deep breath and will away the sudden sting of tears in his eyes before slowly standing up, “I should go. Sorry for any trouble I’ve caused you.” He manages a weak chuckle, though it’s barely audible and probably sounds more like a choked off sob than anything else. The woman’s brow creases and she frowns for real this time, as if she genuinely feels bad for him and he can’t help but smile a little at that, however bitterly it comes.

“You were no trouble at all, really.” The waitress tries to reassure him, hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it briefly, as if she’s stalling for time to try and figure out something deep and meaningful worth saying to him, but all he gets is another sad smile, less pitying and more understanding this time.

He wants to cry, feels the tears bubbling up, ready to burn hot trails down his face and he has to get out of here as quickly as possible before he makes a scene.

Joseph is two steps from his table, eyes glued to the floor when he hears a voice, loud and exasperated and vaguely familiar.

“Babe, wait!” For a second, Joseph thinks he’s hallucinating, because he’s one hundred percent sure that his date is never going to come around him again, so he definitely isn’t the man rushing toward him, hands hidden behind his back and an apologetic, almost desperate look on his face. But the man is there for him, it seems, and Joseph can only blink, mouth opening as if to object the stranger’s presence but closing immediately when he realizes who it is.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” Sebastian Castellanos. Captain of the baseball team, rising star in swim, Castellanos was standing right in front of him, seemingly trying to pretend to be his date for the evening. “Practice ran late and when I tried to text you to reschedule, Coach snatched my phone.” Joseph felt his stomach flip, though he wasn’t sure if it was general, well-placed anxiety, or if his nerves had just fired up over being offered a very well-made out for his embarrassingly long wait. “Not to mention traffic was crap tonight.” Sebastian’s voice carried loud enough that Joseph was certain anyone in the room had heard him, and while he was thankful for the way his reassurance made all the other patron’s eyes turn from pitying to amused, he still wasn’t perfectly certain that what he thought was happening was actually happening.

At least, until Sebastian moved his hands from behind his back, revealing a mini-bouquet of some of the prettiest flowers he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Forgive me?” He heard the male ask sheepishly, as if he had any reason to be embarrassed over this whole situation. Joseph could only gape a little, eyes wide, as he gingerly took the flowers from Sebastian’s outstretched hand, shivering at the way their fingers brushed against each other in the motion. 

“...I couldn’t be mad at you.” Joseph breathes, eyes raking over the other’s form expectantly before shifting to stare at the table he had been waiting at for the past hour and a half. He considers the situation before him and sighs, even if this is a fake date to save him from unbearable embarrassment, it’s worth it to just spend an hour or so in amiable company. Especially when that company is the all too handsome man currently in front of him.

Joseph decides, after perhaps a moment too long in which Sebastian starts to look apprehensive, concerned that he’s said something wrong or made things worse, that he’ll play along. “As long as you’re paying, of course.” 

The wry half-smile he gets in return makes his heart flutter and he has to take a moment to scold himself for it. He should not be crushing on Sebastian, especially considering he’s definitely just doing this because he’s too nice of a person to watch Joseph flail desperately after being stood up. Which, okay, that’s really charming now that he thinks about it and he kind of really wants to kiss the man for being so oddly thoughtful towards someone he hardly knows.

“It’s a deal.” He hears Sebastian say, voice warm and smooth as he gestures towards the table that Joseph was sitting at just a couple minutes prior. They sit down across from one another and neither of them speaks again until the waitress that had been waiting on Joseph earlier comes back with a second menu and a glass of water for her new customer.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Her voice is slightly more chipper than it had been that last time she said anything to Joseph, and he can’t help the rush a warmth he feels knowing that it’s probably due to Sebastian’s sudden appearance. He’s lost in his own world for a moment, so he doesn’t hear what his fake date orders to drink, and jolts a little when he hears his name.

“Joseph?” Sebastian looks worried, brow furrowed just so and lips pressed thin as he looks at him from across the table. “You alright?”  
“Y-Yes? I mean--yeah, sorry, I’m listening. Just, drifted off for a minute there.” Comes his reply, stumbling over his own words a little when he realizes how focused Sebastian is on him in that moment. The smile he gets in return for his fumbling makes his ears go red and he has to look away, staring long and hard at the menu he’s already spent way too much time looking at for one night.

“I was just saying,” He pauses, runs a hand through his hair as if trying to tame it after what was obviously a long practice. “I know that was sudden and all but, I saw you getting up to leave and I couldn’t believe that whoever you’d originally planned to met hadn’t shown up.” His voice is quiet, so as not to expose the truth of their random encounter and false plans, “It’s totally not my place to say this, but whoever they are, they must be a total dick to not show up.” His gaze hardens a little, frown softening but still very there and Joseph finds that he can’t keep his eyes off of the honest anger in Sebastian’s expression. “Especially when they could have had a date with someone as cute as you.” Joseph feels his heart spring into his throat and he blinks, hard, confused for a moment before blushing furiously and shaking his head slightly.

“No, I mean, you’re right. He was an asshole. I don’t know why I thought tonight would be any different,” He casually avoids addressing the fact that he’d just been called cute, thinking it a simple slip of the tongue and nothing more. “Thank you, though.” He breathes, forcing himself to look at Sebastian as he spoke and praying he didn’t just vomit right then and there. “Waiting for as long as I had was embarrassing enough, I don’t think I could have handled having to walk out alone.”

Sebastian looks as if he’s going to say something, opens his mouth and forms the beginning of a word when their waitress returns and he immediately closes his mouth, offering a small smile in place of whatever heartfelt words he had intended to say.

“Do you boys know what you’ll be ordering, or does your date need a little more time.” The woman’s voice was directed at Joseph, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little, offering Sebastian a mildly apologetic glance.

“I’m ready to order, actually. I’ve been here a few times so I know what I want. Joseph can order first, though. Whatever he wants, considering I’ve been so rude in making him wait for me to get here.”

The waitress smiles at them both, a knowing glint in her eyes that Joseph can’t quite place before she’s pulling out a small lined notepad and a red ink ballpoint pen. She nods at him after a pause, scribbling something onto the paper before he even gets any words out of his mouth.

Joseph opens his mouth to order that he had been considering previously, but changes his mind at the last second, “The filet mignon, then. Medium rare, broccoli and rice as my sides.” He carefully folds his menu up as he speaks, eyes drifting over the soup options, and decides to follow through with his earlier whims and orders whatever soup is on special in place of the salad that normally comes before the meal. 

“A fine choice.” She responds, taking the menu from Joseph and tucking it under her arm before turning back to Sebastian, pen tapping paper expectantly. “And you, sir?”

“I’ll have the flank steak, asparagus and rice for my sides.” He looks thoughtful as he hands over the menu before adding, “Could I sub the house salad for a caesar?” 

“Of course. I’ll be right back with your soup and salad--the special today is baked potato, by the way.” And then she saunters off to put in their orders, stopping by a table or two to note that drinks need to be refilled before she has a chance to serve them.

Joseph watches her go, makes a mental note to use the money he had been planning to spend on his meal tonight to tip her very well for putting up with him all night considering he now has someone willing and knightly enough to pay for his entire meal without question. Speaking of which, Joseph turns his gaze back toward the person sitting across from him, a sheepish smile creeping across his features as he searches for something to talk about. He and Sebastian aren’t exactly well acquainted--all Joseph knew about him was what floated around campus, and to be honest, he was surprised to know that the other man even knew his name well enough to be able to properly act as though he was the long awaited date.

In fact, “You’re really good at, uh, acting.” He says, not quite sure if that’s the correct word for what Sebastian had done. Playing things off was a better phrase if he really thought about it, not that it mattered. “Is that just a natural thing you can do, or..?” He trails off curiously, not entirely certain where he was trying to go with this himself.

“I took drama in High School, if that’s what you’re implying.” Sebastian says, quirking a brow at the Canadian, more amused than affronted at the accusation. “But it was more of a whim than a talent I tried to master. It was fun but not something that lasted.”

So he was out of practice, then. Which meant he probably shouldn’t have been as good at lying as he was. “Well, you’re obviously great at a ton of other things, so it probably wasn’t that much of a loss when you stopped.” He mentions, reaching for his water while they manage to settle into a comfortable sway of conversation.

“If you’re talking about my efficiency with sports, I’d like to point out that to even be allowed to play I have to keep my grades pristine.” Which, to his credit, was entirely unlike it had been in high school. Sebastian got into college on a baseball scholarship and on the condition that he bring what used to be straight F’s up to a solid Bplus by the end of his first semester. Considering he was working towards a forensics degree and minoring in linguistics, keeping above a B all semester was trying. So when he managed perfect scores by the end of his first year, the administration eventually let up on him. Hence why he’d since let his grades drop into a much more manageable C plus to B plus radius.

“Oh really? What classes are you taking, then?” Joseph asks, assuming that due to his spectacular performance in anything sports related that Sebastian had condemned himself to a meager major with simple objectives and half-assed classwork. He’s surprised to find out that it’s quite the opposite, and that the only reason he never saw Sebastian around campus except for during game days and in passing was because he was a couple years ahead of him. If it wasn’t for their difference in age, Joseph would probably see him in all of his classes considering that they were both working toward the same degree and, as Joseph dug a little deeper, the same end goal. Detectives, police work, maybe some private investigations on the side too.

The topic of conversation eventually shifts from school and classes to getting to know more about each other personally, and by the time their soup and salad had come and gone, Joseph was confident in his ability to list some of Sebastian’s favorite things. 

He loves the color orange, “Especially when it blends into the colors of a sunrise or sunset.” His favorite flower is something called a calla lily, though he didn’t explain why much more than a simple shrug of his shoulders as if he didn’t really know. 

One of his favorite foods were tamales, if only because his grandmother supposedly made the best in the world and when Joseph raised a skeptical brow at that, he merely shrugged in response, “What, am I supposed to betray my Grandma and say I prefer Taco Bell?” 

In turn, Joseph confessed that he had a soft spot for the color blue, the darker and more purple the hue the better. “It’s somehow warm and cool at the same time, if that makes any sense,” He explains when he sees the funny look Sebastian shoots him. He liked sunflowers quite a lot, something about the way they grew, “Although I guess I like anything that smells nice enough, you know?”

As far as food was concerned, Joseph had taken a good five minutes to think about it before huffing out a frustrated sigh and conceding that he really couldn’t pick a favorite. As long as it was authentic and well cooked he loved it all. Sebastian had laughed at that, a sound that made Joseph’s stomach flip and his heart skip a beat. 

“Your meals, sirs.” The waitress had returned, hands full as she maneuvered their plates onto the table and managed to swap out their drinks with fresh ones all in one go. She hovers for a minute longer than usual, waiting until they had both cut into their steaks and were confident that everything was cooked to their liking before wishing them a fine rest of their night and walking away to cater to the rest of her tables.

“Are you going to want dessert?” Sebastian asks later, once both their plates are nearly empty, startling Joseph out of a meat-induced trance to consider the question.

The dessert menu here was short and the portions weren’t usually large enough to share, meaning they would have to order two desserts and that seemed wrong somehow. Not to mention the only sweet craving he had right then was for ice cream, and he’d much rather stop by the cute little shoppe on his way home and pay three bucks rather than drop fifteen on a chocolate creation he didn’t actually want while he was still here.

“No, uh, I think I’ll pass on dessert for tonight.” He says, finally, setting his fork down when Sebastian motions for the check the next time their server came around. When she hands the bill over, Joseph feels his heart sink a little, the reality of the situation hitting him hard now that the night was over. This date, however genuinely they may have spoken during it, isn’t real. It was a coverup that maybe went a little overboard so that Joseph wouldn’t have to walk out of the restaurant alone and embarrassed. He still feels a little like a fool though, watching as Sebastian pulls out his card to pay for their food. 

“Let me tip her,” He hears himself say, perhaps a bit too sudden, the moment he sees Sebastian fishing around his wallet for a cash tip. It’s the least he could do, especially considering it was him that the woman had spent more than an hour of her night waiting on. “I mean, you paid so let me at least get the tip.” He doesn’t wait for a response though, and already has money out for the tip, setting it near the edge of the table for when she returns.

They’re walking out of the restaurant together now and Joseph figures they’ll eventually turn to go their separate ways, so when Sebastian just stops altogether outside of the restaurant, he just keeps walking. 

“Joseph, wait,” There’s a firm hand wrapped around his wrist, preventing him from going any further and he sighs, prying his eyes away from the sidewalk to stare blankly at Sebastian. “I meant what I said earlier, you know. Anyone would be lucky to have a date with you.” And there’s something oddly sincere about the way he says it that Joseph almost thinks he sees him blush.

“That’s really nice of you to say.” Joseph starts, looking down to where Sebastian’s hand hasn’t let go of him yet, “Honestly, this entire night turned out better than I thought it would. I, uh,” He pauses, face heating up as he tries not to say something stupid.

“I had fun.” Sebastian supplies the rest of his thought for him before slowly letting his wrist go. 

Before Joseph can turn to leave, he says something else, “Do you think we could maybe do this again sometime? I mean, not like this.” The older man’s brow furrows and he shoves his hands into his pockets in an attempt to keep them from fidgeting, “A real date. Next week, maybe?”

And that was unexpected, really. Joseph stumbles over his words for a moment, unable to piece together a proper sentence in his surprise at the request, and eventually just nods a little too enthusiastically as his response.

“Really? That’s, that’s great. Here let me see your phone.” He pulls his hands back out and smiles, more to himself than anything, as he saves his number into Joseph’s cell before handing it back to him. “Just text me when you know you’ll be free and we can set it up.” He offers, his smile twisting into a smirk at the way Joseph blinks dumbly at the screen of his phone.

“Don’t you have practice?” Joseph asks, worried that they might not be able to match up their busy schedules well enough to actually find time to have a date.

“You could stop by the field, if you wanted. But we can worry about the specifics later, it’s getting pretty late.” He gestures to the sky, devoid of all color except a deep, purply black and some rolling gray clouds that blot out the shine of the moon. 

Shoving his phone back in his pocket, Joseph sighs. The ice cream shoppe was definitely closed by now, which meant he would have to make the walk back to his his campus dorm empty-handed. Though with the promise of a real date with Sebastian, he figures he’ll have a lot to think about during his walk.

“Do you need a ride?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted a ride back to your dorm.” Sebastian looks mildly mischievous, leaning forward and just far enough into his personal space that Joseph feels himself shiver.

“Well, if you’re offering..” He trails off, finding it hard to look his date-to-be directly in the eyes and instead focusing on a very interesting crack in the sidewalk slightly to their left. He considers the implications of having Sebastian drive him home, wonders briefly if it’s late enough that he could convince him to stay the night in his dorm. Just for safety’s sake and definitely not because the image of Sebastian groggy from sleep with morning stubble and blanket creases on his cheek is stuck in his head.

“Come on, then.” Sebastian presses, nodding toward the only motorcycle in the parking lot and twirling the keys haphazardly around his finger. His grin is definitely malicious as he hops onto the bike and pats the space behind him, “You’ll have to hold onto me, alright? Don’t want you falling off and hurting yourself before we’ve even properly planned our date.”

Joseph can’t help but laugh at that, swatting Sebastian’s shoulder gently before nervously positioning himself behind the man. He’d been on motorcycles before, so he knew well enough how he was expected to sit, but that didn’t make it feel any less awkward or intimate as he wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s waist, the pretty bouquet of flowers he’d received at the beginning of the night still gripped tight in one hand. At the sound of the bike starting, Joseph pulled his legs up and out of the way, subconsciously pressing himself closer to Sebastian as they took off.

The ride is quiet, the route they took back to campus devoid of any other vehicles. To say it was peaceful is an understatement, although Joseph was quite certain that at the same time he’d never been more on-edge in his life. It was a relief when they finally pulled up to his building, the bike coming to a rumbling stop beneath them.

“Thanks, Seb,” Joseph says, noticing that the bike hasn’t been shut off and giving up his hopes of convincing the other male to come inside with him.

“No problem, Joseph. Tonight was fun.” He responds, feet planted firmly on the ground as he straddles his motorcycle, looking for all the world like he had something else to say but couldn’t find the words to say it.

It was endearing, if not slightly frustrating to watch, and Joseph found that he couldn’t help himself when he stepped back toward the bike and pressed a kiss to Sebastian’s lips. He’d responded almost immediately, and Joseph couldn’t help the noise he made when teeth grazed his lips before slowly pulling away. 

“I’ll text you?” Joseph asks, breathless and unsure why he’d phrased it as a question, though he relished in the way Sebastian raked his gaze over him before nodding stiffly. He doesn’t get much more of a goodbye than that before the senior was off again, leaving Joseph alone to stare perhaps a little too lovingly at the flowers still in his hand.


End file.
